You and an old memory
surfaced recently.
We met at the old roadside noodle shop
on the pass leading North
to Singing Wind Peaks.
You had been at the hermitage
in long retreat.
Nervous, in your company
I was compelled to fill the space
you felt no need too.
After learning the old master
had just died,
I felt the sorrow
of my own heart.
It was him
I was on pilgrimage to meet.
'His son is master now,
You will like him. Keep going,'
you said.
'I don't like my plans
to be changed
by others,' I replied,
and it was even more so
back then!
~Chandali PoetStory 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment